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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27655289">Of Blood-Stained Hands and Severed Bonds</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/BaeyoungnBaeran/pseuds/BaeyoungnBaeran'>BaeyoungnBaeran</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Inso's Law</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Blood and Violence, Drama, F/M, Hunger Games AU, Romance, The Hunger Games AU no one asked for, Tragedy, yet another dark au from sonnet</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 21:09:34</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,085</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27655289</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/BaeyoungnBaeran/pseuds/BaeyoungnBaeran</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>"Do you trust me?” </p><p> </p><p>He asked, offering the hand that could lead her to victory or demise… </p><p> </p><p>But when every grass blade they step on had been smeared with red, how could she trust him? When she had clearly witnessed him slay another, how could she? </p><p> </p><p>“Yes." </p><p> </p><p>She said, taking the blood-stained hand of the boy she’ll eventually betray.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Ban Yeo Ryeong &amp; Ham Dan I, Ham Dan I &amp; Woo Joo In, Ham Dan I/Yoo Chun Young, Ham Dan-I/Eun Ji-Ho, Ham Dan-I/Kwon Eun-hyung, Ham Dan-I/Lee Ruda</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>16</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Of Blood-Stained Hands and Severed Bonds</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>One more year after this, and March 2nd won't be as terrifying as it was. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Dan-i’s heart drummed inside her chest as the seconds went by. There was nothing to be afraid of; the fact that she has reached 17 unscathed proved her luck. Even when she had to sign up for tesserae; she had no choice if she had to survive. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>And besides, she can't be chosen, not when she and Chunyoung were still on bad terms. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>The escort, a woman donning a vibrant pink wig with wild curls went up the podium and introduced herself as ‘Ae-ri’. It was a different woman from last year but even so, one would be pressed to see the difference. In typical Capitol fashion, her thickly-caked makeup and manner of dressing were bizarre and flashy.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>The Cheshire grin plastered on her face as she delivered her speech was a juxtaposition to the grim, fear-stricken faces of her audience.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>She would still wear that same terrifying grin even as she sent children to their tragic end. That was the kind of callousness the Capitol people had. </p><p> </p><p>As she neared the end of her speech, fear had once again urged Dan-i to flee. She would have done so, were it not for the Peacekeepers that stood at every corner, armed with rifles. Even when the person in front of them was a child, they would not hesitate to aim at them.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>When the lady ended her speech, she approached the big glass bowl filled with slips of paper, 50 of which included ‘Ham Dan-i’.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>“As usual, ladies first.”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Dan-i looked to her left and as soon as she did, her brown eyes met blue.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Yoo Chunyoung.</em>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>She shifted her gaze from Chunyoung’s blue eyes to the ground. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p><em>‘Please be safe, Chunyoung,’ </em>she silently pleaded to whoever higher being could hear her. He had to be safe. He wasn’t living in poverty. Unlike her, he was a town boy,  and thus never had to sign up for tesserae. In another bowl beside where her name was, there were only 6 slips with the name <em>‘Yoo Chunyoung’. </em></p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Everyone held their breaths as the lady spun her hand to shuffle the slips of paper, with each slip coming in contact with her hand only intensifying the thumping against her chest.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Finally, she took one, and she walked back to the podium.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <em>'Just get this over with.’ </em>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>The Capitol lady unrolled the slip, smoothing out the creases. She smiled as she held her microphone to her mouth. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>The name that would come from her lips would be another life stolen by the Capitol.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>“Ham—!”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Dan-i blinked. Why were their heads turned towards her? There was no reason to.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>“Where's Ham Dan-i?”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Dan-i’s knees buckled, vision blurring as the world she stood on spun. Collective murmurs that filled the Square became a deafening ringing in her ears. She couldn't hear anything over the lady’s voice echoing her name, mocking her and yanking her out of her disbelief. </p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Ham Dan-i. Ham Dan-i. Ham Dan-i. </em>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Panic grabbed her lungs as a wave of nausea formed. Dan-i clenched her shaky fists and felt her throat closing up. Choppy gasps for air shook her scrawny figure.</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p> </p><p>“Ham Dan-i! Please come up to the stage.”</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p> </p><p>Two Peacekeepers forcefully pulled Dan-i up by her elbows. Pain shot from their tight grip as they practically dragged Dan-it onto the stage. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>She stared at the audience, the faces she once knew becoming an unfamiliar sight. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>And then, she saw Chunyoung’s face. It was the first time she saw him don that expression—a wide-eyed surprise that never showed even during the previous reapings.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>She was now on the stage. The bizarre lady was saying something in her annoyingly high-pitched voice, but thoughts of blood seeping out of her lifeless body drowned it all out. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <em>She was going to die young.  </em>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>“Does anyone want to volunteer?”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>No one answered—no one was suicidal enough to take her place. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>She could see everyone’s faces, watching her with pity but at the same time, relief—relief that it was not their name; relief that they have dodged yet another year. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>“And now, for the gentlemen! Aren't you all excited?”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>There was no reply from the crowd, only silent prayers of not being reaped; a silent plea to the heavens for anyone but them. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Ae-ri’s hand fished for another name from a separate bowl; the bowl that housed 11 slips with Chunyoung's name.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Ae-ri cleared her throat and said with clarity, “Kim Jin-sun!”</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p> </p><p><em>Kim Jin-sun? </em>She might’ve known who it was but right now, she could not remember him nor his face. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Boys turned their heads to a scrawny boy that looked 14, although due to the malnourishment rampant in District 12, he might have been older. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>As he took a step forward…</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>“<em>I volunteer!” </em></p><p> </p><p> </p><p>It was a voice she knew so well.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Everyone's heads soon snapped from Jin-sun to a black-haired boy.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>It was the first time she heard him raise his voice, not even when they had fought.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <em>‘Are you insane?’ </em>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Chunyoung clenched his jaw and hardened his icy blue glare. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <em>“I volunteer as tribute.” </em>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>“Oh, my! How exciting! Make way for our courageous tribute!”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Either he was courageous or suicidal. </em>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>In District 12, volunteering was rare, but in richer districts such as 1, 2, and 4, the pride of winning the Games was enough to throw themselves to death. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>As the Peacekeepers took his arms, he shook it off, staring them down. “I can walk by myself.”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>And so he did, not dragging his feet, but walking in careful strides, his face showing no traces of fear. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <em>With Yoo Chunyoung as her opponent, Ham Dan-i...was doomed.  </em>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>“My, how handsome! What's your name?" Ae-ri gushed, holding her microphone to Chunyoung's face.</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>He didn't look at the lady or at the audience. Instead, his gaze was directed towards her. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>“Yoo Chunyoung.”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>“Yoo Chunyoung! Everyone, let's give our tributes a round of applause! And may the odds be ever in their favours.”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Dan-i and Chunyoung did not bother listening to the mayor recite the Treaty of Treason. Once finished, they shook hands, a customary action every annual Reaping. It’s been a while since she last touched his hand, rough and cold to the touch.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>As they turned to face the crowd, the haunting Panem anthem played, and all Dan-i could think of… </p><p> </p><p>
  <em>…was how out of 24 tributes, only one would live and emerge victorious.  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>0-0-0-0</b>
</p><p> </p><p>Dan-i and Chunyoung were led to the Justice Building and brought to separate rooms.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>It was a room of luxury, something Dan-i wanted to see once in her life…</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <em>...but not in this way. </em>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>She fiddled with the hem of her skirt. In less than a minute, the door opened, and in came the distraught face of her father and mother. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>“Dan-i!”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Her mother flung herself at Dan-i, wrapping her arms around Dan-i’s body, wetting Dan-i’s shoulders with her tears.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Her father stood by her mother’s side, not shedding a single tear, but Dan-i knew from his pursed lips and moistening eyes that he was holding back tears. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>“Mom, don't cry,” Dan-i said, not at all convincing due to the tears spilling from her eyes. </p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p> </p><p>“Honey.” Her father placed a hand on her mother’s back, soothing her with slow rubs. “Our Dan-i will survive. She can shoot a running deer straight to its eye. Chunyoung taught her how to make snares. She knows which berries are poisonous or not. She can get herself out of any situation.”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>“But…”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>“You will live, sweetheart.” Her father kissed her forehead. His lips, though chapped, were the most comforting thing that has ever happened in that day.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>“But what about Chunyoung?”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Chunyoung was a childhood friend of hers, and sometimes visited her small home. Over the years, her parents treated him as the son they never had… </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Though they would, at times, tease her, saying that by ‘son’, they meant ‘son-in-law’.</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Will those days ever come back?  </em>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p> </p><p>“Just...focus on surviving.”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>They both hugged her, her father murmuring soothing words of reassurance, and her mother muttering incoherent words through her sobs.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Then a knock came. The door opened, and a Peacekeeper entered. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>With one last tight hug, the Peacekeeper led them out of the room.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>The room fell into silence and for the first time in her 17 years of living, she felt truly alone.</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <b>0-0-0-0</b>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>The Peacekeepers stood by the two tributes’ sides by the train doors, who were being blinded by the camera flashes taking images of Chunyoung’s stoic face and Dan-i’s tear-stricken face.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>The Reaping of District 12 was quite a scene; one girl falling into hysterics and a stone-faced boy volunteering. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>She feared what would air later that night on the television. </p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p> </p><p>Eventually, they were ordered to enter the train and the doors finally closed. Immediately after taking their seats, the train sped away.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Fear aside, there was amazement in Dan-i’s eyes as she looked out of the window, wide-eyed and jaw agape at the trees and buildings they sped by in a blur.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Dan-i shot a tentative look at Chunyoung, who was already staring at her. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>It pulled her out of her amazement and brought her back to the present. </p><p> </p><p>“Chunyoung…”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Chunyoung said nothing, but patiently awaited her next words.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>“Why did you—”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Ae-ri’s clapping and peppy voice cut her off. “My lovely tributes! Supper’s ready!”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>A man pushing a trolley of food approached them, carefully setting them down at their table. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Dan-i’s mouth watered at the sight, and so did Chunyoung’s, but not as much as her.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>As the man laid out all the plates, he walked away with the trolley.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>“Ugh, where’s your mentor?” Ae-ri shook her head, clicking her tongue. “How can he leave the food waiting?”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Over the decades, District 12 has produced only one winner—the victor of the 67th Hunger Games, Lee Byul. </p><p> </p><p>Chunyoung and Dan-i did not bother waking him; ever since he emerged victorious, bouts of insomnia have plagued his nights, and he could only get by through sleeping pills and alcohol.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>It was another year for their mentor; another year of seeing tributes of District 12 to their deaths.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Without offering her thanks, Dan-i dug in, completely leaving the utensils beside her plate untouched.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>With sauce smeared all over her face, fingers, and dress, the lady curled her lip in pure disgust. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>“Are you a wild animal or what? How can you eat like a savage?”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Dan-i rolled her eyes, annoyance bubbling within her chest. Ae-ri wouldn't understand the everyday hunger of the citizens of District 12, and would never experienced being forced to abandon all manners.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>“Why don’t you take an example from your District-mate?”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Then a faint clang came from Chunyoung. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>He had set down his utensils, loud munches filling the room as he used his hands to dig into his food. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>A town boy eating without table manners? She smirked. It was an amusing sight that Dan-i never thought she’d see. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Ae-ri let out an exasperated sigh. “Just clean up before showing up in front of the stylists. That boy might have a chance, but you," she shot a look at Dan-i, “you look as plain as a brick. Let’s just hope the stylists do a good job.”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Dan-i never cared about her looks. In the poverty-stricken District 12, beauty was the least of her worries. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>But not Chunyoung. With his chiseled features, unkempt black hair, tall stature, and piercing blue eyes, he might have a chance.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Dan-i, on the other hand, a skinny brown-eyed brunette of short stature, did not have striking features to boast. Although Ae-ri’s words were harsh, they held truth into it. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>In a life-and-death situation such as the Hunger Games, even looks could be a stepping stone towards victory. Most of the previous winners had caught the eye of the Capitol sponsors, receiving many gifts from them during their time in the Arena. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>She needed a different strategy, for using beauty was not an option for someone as plain as her.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Once they finished supper, the train fell into a deep silence, with the train’s whizzing wheels as the only source of noise. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>In a momentary escape from the grim situation she was thrown into, Dan-i fell asleep. Maybe if she opened her eyes, everything would go back to the way it has always been; waking up to a persistent hunger gnawing at her stomach and her mother’s nagging voice, crossing under the electric barbed fence, and stalking a potential game… </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Yes, this nightmare would end once her eyes snap open. </p><p> </p><p>
  <b>0-0-0-0</b>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>When she opened her eyes, it wasn't the scene she expected to see. Instead, bright lights momentarily blinded her eyes. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>And she saw it; the city she only saw through the television—Capitol.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Dan-i ran towards the window, with Chunyoung following closely behind. She stared in awe at the sunlight shining through towering buildings, obnoxiously colourful cars casually speeding down the streets, and Capitol citizens with their typical bizarre fashion chatting with each other.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>When the citizens saw the tribute train, they pointed at both Dan-i and Chunyoung, excitedly clapping and waving their hands.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Dan-i and Chunyoung…were no more than a passing entertainment to them. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Nevertheless, Dan-i slowly raised her hand and waved at the crowd, the action in itself making them go wild. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Who knows? There might be a crazy sponsor out there willing to throw their money for her. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>0-0-0-0</b>
</p><p> </p><p>The stylists had subjected her through torture, yanking strips of fabric to pull out her hairs from its roots.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <em>The Games haven't even begun yet, and she was already in this much pain? </em>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>“Finally! You’re all clean now!”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>The stylists giddily clapped their hands as they surrounded her naked body. When they had stripped Dan-i down, she felt embarrassed and self-conscious about it. Yes, she knew it was the least of her worries, but that did not stop her from feeling that way. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Thankfully, the stylists weren’t perverted lechers. This was their job so seeing a naked body wasn’t new to them. That thought in itself gave Dan-i a small sense of comfort.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>“Now all you need to do is wait for San!”</p><p> </p><p>And with that, they left the room, leaving Dan-i lying on the cold table.</p><p> </p><p>She wondered how Chunyoung was feeling at the moment. He was never the sociable type, with Dan-i once half-joking that he seemed to despise the human touch.</p><p> </p><p>If she was feeling uncomfortable, then he must be even more so... </p><p> </p><p>She sat up, hugging her body in a futile attempt to protect her from the cold. <em>Why can't they just hand her outfit and let her wear it in peace? </em></p><p> </p><p>Then the door opened, and in came a young man.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <em>A good-looking young man.  </em>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p> </p><p>“Hello, you must be Ham Dan-i?”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>“Wh-who are you?”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>She was sure he wasn't her stylist. He did not look like a typical Capitol citizen. In fact, he looked normal, albeit good-looking. He was not wearing any makeup—at least, nothing eye-catching—and he wore jeans and a simple brown coat over a white turtleneck sweater. He was not wearing any bizarre wig but instead, his light brown hair was short and kempt.</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Either he was a tribute or mentor…but how would they even enter?  </em>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>He beamed at her. “I’m Woo San! Your stylist!”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Dan-i scoffed, looking at him from head to toe. “Stop joking.”</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Then again, she truly wished that everything that had just transpired was a joke. </em>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>“I’m serious, though?”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>She widened her eyes. “But…but—!”</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p> </p><p>“Ah, I’m not originally from the Capitol.” He scratched his cheek and smiled. “I just came here 5 years ago.”</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p> </p><p>“Oh. I see.”</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>'He must be a newbie...which meant...'</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Dan-i's expression immediately darkened. Just what kind of monstrosity would he plan on making her wear?</p><p> </p><p>That...was if she even had the luck of having something to wear. She visibly grimaced at the memory of the pitiful District 12 tributes from 3 years ago—stark naked and coated with coal ash.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>How pitiful it must be for their families, watching their children be a laughing livestock and having to see them brutally die on live television.</p><p> </p><p>San must have noticed her discomfort as he quickly reassured her.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>“But you don't have to worry about anything! My hands can transform anyone into something beautiful! You already are pretty, but I can make you even more pretty!”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Dan-i’s cheeks heated up at his compliment. <em>Pretty? What would he even gain by flattering her?  </em></p><p> </p><p> </p><p>“Anyway, let’s not waste precious time.”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>As he proceeded applying makeup on her face, they both had a chat. He was not as insufferable as Dan-i expected him to be. His presence was actually a comfort, but it was most likely because he wasn’t originally from the Capitol.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>“So this is your first year in the Games?”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>“Yes.” He said as he applied something on Dan-i’s cheeks with a brush. She thought it would be uncomfortable to have her makeup applied but surprisingly, the soft bristles brushing on her skin felt nice to her. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>“No wonder they gave you District 12.”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>District 12, the least desired district, was usually given to rookie stylists. Any stylist who was offered District 12 would perform their jobs begrudgingly and in haste. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>“Hmm, I don’t mind.”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>By the time he finished doing her face, he began styling her hair in a braid. He talked to her as if she was a longtime friend of his, and his friendliness did ease Dan-i’s nerves a little bit. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>He mentioned that he was from District 3, and had a cousin he was particularly fond of due to his cuteness.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>“Actually,” he said, his smile faltering and tone tinged with sadness, “I found out that my cousin’s a tribute.”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>“Oh.”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Dan-i did not say anything. <em>But in the situation she was in, what could she say? </em>On a normal day, she would have patted his back, offered words of comfort, saying that his cousin would definitely survive. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>But this was not a normal day. Saying his cousin would live would mean resigning herself to death.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Hours later when he finished dolling her up, she stood in front of the mirror, staring at her reflection in amazement.</p><p> </p><p>The girl in the mirror could not possibly be her...</p><p> </p><p>...yet it mirrored every movement she made. </p><p> </p><p>Woo San was not lying when he had said he could make her even more beautiful.</p><p> </p><p>“Your concept,” he said, “would be the girl who had fallen from the sky.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hope you like it! Do tell us what you think in the comments if it's alright with you! Kudos are also appreciated lololol ^^</p></blockquote></div></div>
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